It has no will to be silentthough it rarely uses words.For it is chained to its loneliness and hope.

Draped in innumerable metal links,the keys it seeks have become its armorits lips and teeth.

Each discarded piece of manmade metalmay hold the power to send it home,to a world that's remained hidden for millennia.So with every footfallits choice is clear.To collect every key that falls in its pathand use them to cross the dimensional barriers.

One dayit will find its way to the sweet embrace of home.Nothing will halt this task.]]>Wed, 22 May 2019 08:29:59 GMThttp://poemafterpoem.weebly.com/poetry-by-cheyenne/tortureTorment and torture have become so inelegant.Yes, holding a knife to a person's throat will scare themno matter how they deny it,but when you do finally drive that blade into their chestand their soul drains from their eyesthat's it.They are lost to you.A broken toy that you tore apartand enjoyed while it lasted.

This is such an outdated solution for your cravings.A waste of a perfectly good unwilling volunteer.The truest way to pump from them every last drop of precious fearis to never let their torment cease.

Allow them to feel that final impactthe blade's cutthe creatures many teeth tearing them apart,and let them think that it is the end for them.That this scream and gurgle will be their live's conclusion.

But do not allow their soul to soar off to whatever heaven or hell awaits them.Bring them back.It doesn't matter how.Just anchor them to their broken flesh and bone,their agonizing mind.Then they can be your plaything for as long as you see fit.And you can subject them to as many horrors as your twisted little mind can concoct.]]>Tue, 21 May 2019 07:32:38 GMThttp://poemafterpoem.weebly.com/poetry-by-cheyenne/gaspsWhy when I try and draw a breathdoes if feel like the air is frozen solid.I know it's there,swirling around my flailing fingersand tousling my hair.But it refuses to lend me its lightness,to fill my lungsand sooth the frantic gaspsthat sound like frantic shrieks inside my ears.]]>Mon, 20 May 2019 08:27:58 GMThttp://poemafterpoem.weebly.com/poetry-by-cheyenne/golden-handed-manI saw the golden-handed man again today.He was sitting on a park bench, alone,all ragged and grey.

I'd been to afraid to look before,and so had missed so clearlythe look he always wore.

A gentle smile beneath kindly eyesand wrinkles that crinkled and creased.And it pained me to pass him by.

So when I left work for the dayI went back there and exploredthis man who'd been so ostracized.]]>Sun, 19 May 2019 07:42:00 GMThttp://poemafterpoem.weebly.com/poetry-by-cheyenne/wearing-my-swords-aroundOn days where my self-confidence is low,I wish wearing a sword belt would become socially acceptable again.

Nothing would make me feel more like an epic badassthen having a sword on one hipand a dagger on the other.

I wouldn't have to pull either from their sheaths,twirl them aroundor be threatening.

No, just being able to carry around physical proof to myselfthat I am strong, sharp, and willing to lunge through the air at a moment's noticewould be enough.

The weight of bladeswithin reachand within sightto show myself that i am just as powerfulas I've always imagined myself to be.

So is permission to wear my swords aroundin public without a fuss being made​so much to ask?]]>Sat, 18 May 2019 06:46:00 GMThttp://poemafterpoem.weebly.com/poetry-by-cheyenne/a-stroll-through-my-mindI took a stroll through my mind today.And there were patches that were nice, I'll admit.

Groves of trees strung with fairy lightsand crossed by brooks that chuckled as they ran.

Art galleries of memoriesexhibiting days when I laughed until I cried.

Even a white-sand beachwhere the whispers of the tide lulled me to sleep.

But there were moments when dark mist choked out the lightwhere claws reached out and ripped at me,their many knuckles popping and cracking as I jerked away.

Or when the ground beneath me broke apartlike a gaping maw, complete with rows of teeth.I don't remember how I got away.Only that when it openedI tumbled and shrieked for days.

My mind can be a lovely place,but next timeI'll remember to bring a friend alongto help guide mewhen the monsters become too much.]]>Fri, 17 May 2019 10:39:15 GMThttp://poemafterpoem.weebly.com/poetry-by-cheyenne/mountainsI want to uncover a mountain.Walk from it's very peak andstudy it, all the way to the roots. Where itgrows from soft earthinto astoney​keep.]]>Thu, 16 May 2019 07:39:21 GMThttp://poemafterpoem.weebly.com/poetry-by-cheyenne/the-night-airThe night air is smoothand strokes my cheek with fickleshaded fingertips.]]>Wed, 15 May 2019 08:22:45 GMThttp://poemafterpoem.weebly.com/poetry-by-cheyenne/we-cannot-be-everythingWe cannot be everything. Sad, but true.As the more we tear ourselves asunder,the less each part is given its just due.The more we yearn to revise our blunders,our regret thrums inside us like thunder.We have to pick and choose our battles here.To be a Shakespeare or a buccaneer.To be who we want, not who we should be.No matter how being everything endears,You are a person. A human. A me.]]>